Tag: common roots brewing company

I write this from the passenger seat of our car as we head back to Boston. It’s the first time since the fire that I’ve had a few minutes to really sit, think, and reflect on all that’s happened. As I stare at the other side of I-90, my mind can’t help but travel back to last Monday and recall how different our emotions were when were flying in the opposite direction.

Last Monday started out as a normal day. I went to work, came home, poured myself a delicious Tasteful Deception while I made dinner. We were just finishing eating when my friend from back home texted me.

“I’m sure Christian or someone on staff is already calling you but I’m at Common Roots and there’s a fire… Everyone is out safe, and Christian is talking to the firefighters but just wanted to let you know.”

I immediately called my mom and that conversation will pain my heart for the rest of my life. She answered sobbing and screaming, “KALYN! It’s gone! It’s all burning.”

“Mom, is everyone okay? Where are Christian and Dad?”

Through sobs, she let me know that everyone was safe but even still, I’m not sure I’ve ever heard her more upset.

I hung up and told my concerned looking husband, Evan, “It’s bad. I need to get up there.”

He quickly replied, “I want to come with you”. We were packed and in the car 15 minutes later.

The next 3 hours seemed to crawl by. We spoke to one another occasionally, but mostly sat in quietly with our thoughts – too shocked and saddened to articulate anything in depth… and maybe hoping that not mentioning our fears out loud would somehow stop them from becoming true. I checked my phone periodically as the online footage of the brewery burning continued, tortured by the fact that all I could do was watch painfully through a screen, still miles away.

As I sat there then and as I sit here now, it’s impossible still for me to not feel incredibly saddened by what was lost in that fire. My mind flashes back to the early days… when my parents and brother first purchased the old building that would eventually be transformed into Common Roots Brewing Company. My heart sinks as I think about all the effort my dad, brother and so many of our friends and family members put into renovating the space. I remember whenever we were in town, which was more frequently in those days, they’d always find us a project to work on. There was always so much to do then, and we were eager (and still are) to be a part of it.

As time went on, there would be more and more “finished work” to see when we returned home. My dad or brother would lead us around, proudly showing off their newest project, building fixture, or piece of equipment. Christian’s token phrase became, “What do you think, ehh?? It’s a BREWERY!”

My brother’s excitement, even in periods of exhaustion (which was also frequent then), is contagious.

These memories are the ones I need to keep pushing back down for the time being. For now, they still hurt just a little too much.

True, it was just a building and its contents that burned…but overtime our brewery had become almost a member of the Weber family. It was like our youngest sister that we all collectively wanted nurture and see grow and develop. I’d brag to my friends about her, show off pictures, and tell stories about how she was growing.

So, when I finally arrived at the site on Monday night, I knew it was going to be hard. And it was.

Because we were arriving so late, most of the crowds had already cleared. Christian and my father were standing out front aside one of the few remaining firetrucks, staring at the still-smoking devastation from the street. My dad saw us first and greeted me how he usually does, “Kay-Webs!” and put his arms out for a hug.

“Dad…” was all I got out before I started crying.

He patted my back and said, “I know. It really is sad to look at, isn’t it?”

It was. But as days went by, we processed that sadness together and breathed through our relief that no one was hurt, and that the situation wasn’t much worse.

For example, I was incredibly fortunate to be able to stay in the area with my family all week and bear witness to the outpour of support from the community. Within hours of the tragedy, friends and former employees were already rallying to organize benefit events and fundraisers. Countless people and organizations have reached out to see how they can help and offer kind words of support and encouragement. It’s been unbelievable. To say we are touched would be an understatement. We are grateful, humbled, and truly in awe of the kindness and generosity of the greater community.

It is clear to me through all of this that the “Common Roots Family” has grown to be much, much bigger than the Weber family alone. That family is strong and will keep pushing forward.

There are many tough months ahead, but I’m excited to return home on weekends in the future and see the progress that takes place at Common Roots. And while they may not be doing the actual construction this time, I expect my dad and brother will once again lead me around the brewery and point out new developments they’re proud of. Eventually, they will again find that contagious excitement that fueled us all in the very beginning.

I’m excited for that time and am prouder than ever to be a part of this Common Roots family.

Like this:

Some rides are not meant to be raced. Your first 100 miler is probably one of them. At least that was my takeaway from this weekend. I rode the Sea Gull Century ride in Salisbury, Maryland and had the most fun checking off my first 100 miler on the bike.

Going into the ride, I was in decent cycling shape coming off training for a 70.3 in September. Still, making the jump from 60 mile long-rides to the full century was intimidating, even on a flat course. I had never fueled for a ride that long and it was more hours than I’d ever put in the saddle. In my over-anxious mind… there was much to go wrong!

The family – most of us rocking our Common Roots Brewing Company jerseys.

Turns out, I need not have worried. The day was perfect. I rode with my entire family and, despite coming into the ride with different levels of fitness, the group of us decided to stick together and ride socially. We built our own pace line and slowed down anytime someone came close to falling off. In addition to spending a lovely day together as a family, this was also great pacing mechanism, forcing me to quell my [overly] competitive nature, focus on fueling and hydrating correctly, and truly just enjoy the day.

As an event, the Sea Gull Century is a perfect course to ride for pure fun. Over 5,000 cyclists turn out for this fundraiser for Salisbury University. It is well-organized and supported by volunteers and draws cyclist from all different abilities. In addition to the 100 mile course, there is also 62 mile “metric century”. There are rest stations every ~20-25 miles (even one that serves beer 10 miles before the finish), the terrain is incredibly flat, and the 99% of the roads are in perfect conditions.

We only stopped at two out of the five rest stations but did spend a solid 20-25 minutes at each one, using the restrooms, fueling up, filling our water bottles and stretching a bit. I did find that starting up again after stopping was one of the toughest parts of the day so will keep that mind in the future… and maybe be a little quicker at the rest stops.

Other than that, I’m going to be arrogant and give myself an “A for execution” on my first Century. Here are some things that went well:

Pacing – riding several mph slower than I would have normally allowed me to finish the ride with some gas in the tank… i.e. great practice for Ironman when I’ll be starting a marathon (versus cracking a beer) off the bike. My legs felt fantastic (almost fresh even!) on my 5-mile recovery run the next day, which gave me some confidence about my fitness base going into the “off season”.

Fueling and Hydration – I ate some sort of solid carb every 20 miles or so (I like having something solid in my stomach) and kept my water bottles filled at the rest stations. I ran out of Infinit powder but filled up one bottle of water and the other with Gatorade and that seemed to work okay. The shots of pickle juice at mile 65 on Assateague Island were a game changer… I felt awesome afterwards.

Note: Had it been a hotter day, my casual approach to fueling may not have worked so well (I have a pretty high sweat rate). Planning to get more precise and dial in nutrition in prepping for IMLP.

Equipment – I hadn’t spent much time on my road bike since starting triathlon race season so decided to give it some love with a proper tune up before the race. Shout out to Mystic Cycle Centre – my old roadie rode great! My one blunder was forgetting to transfer my tube repair kit from my tri bike to my road bike, meaning I nothing to change a flat with. Luckily, we had just one flat in our group (and it wasn’t me), so we were covered in terms of tubes and CO2… still not a great move.

After being carried 100 miles, this tasted delicious.

Fun – I had fun from start to finish of this ride – took in the scenery, caught up with the family, and visualized cracking open the 16 oz can of Citra Session Pale Ale we each carried in our jersey pocket the full 100 miles. Slightly warm and shook up… It was as delicious as I imagined it being.

Summary: The Seagull Century was a fantastic experience. We will be back again next year to do it all again.

With my first 100 miler under my belt, signing up for the next one won’t be so intimidating. Any good race (or ride) suggestions? Currently accepting recommendations for my next century!

I did my first triathlon September 2016. It was an Olympic distance in upstate New York in the town I grew up in. Aside from a decent level of general fitness, I was totally unprepared. I mix-matched borrowed apparel and made every newbie mistake under the sun. I looked like a huge nerd but smiled through every minute of that first race. From then on, I was hooked. In my first year of racing, (with help from my coach) I dropped half an hour off my Olympic time from that first race, completed my first 70.3 and even picked up a few podium finishes along the way.

My first triathlon. Almost everything I’m wearing is borrowed.

I’m still far (far, far, far) from being an expert—But I did learn a bunch this year…mostly through making a ton of mistakes. Here are some lessons learned from one tri-newbie to the next.

Training Lessons

Buy a heart rate monitor and know your zones. Prior to starting triathlon, my “normal” run pace was at my threshold HR range and I was doing that pace for 95% of my runs! Training with heart rate helped me shave over 5 minutes from my 10K time and avoid injuries from over training. Heart rate monitors are relatively inexpensive (comparatively, for the sport that’s annoyingly expensive) and probably the best bang for your buck in terms of training value.

Practice swimming even if you hate it. True, swimming is “the shortest leg of the race” but that’s actually a pretty silly excuse to not try to get better at it. Swim workouts used to make my skin crawl so I procrastinated the crap out of them. When I stopped being a baby and started putting in the time, my form and pace started to improve and the entire experience became less terrible.

Learn to love your bike trainer. Yes, riding outside is more way fun but the trainer is so much more efficient if you only have an hour or two to train. You can consistently hit heart rate or power targets without having to worry about traffic, stoplights, weather, etc. It can be a little rough at first but movies, playlists and fun cycling apps make trainer rides way more enjoyable, so does having a good bike fit. Which reminds me…

I rode “in aero” 90% of this race. Bike fits matter.

Get a good bike fit. Especially if you’re on a tri bike! Riding “in aero” has a very different feel than a regular road bike. And no matter what bike you’re on, you’re going to be putting some serious hours on it so you want to be as comfortable as possible. I was lucky enough to get a really great bike fit using the Retül fit technology at Patriot Multisport in upstate New York. In my inexpert opinion, a good bike fit falls into the “not cheap but necessary” category.

Bike maintenance matters. Learn how to do the fundamentals: change a tube; clean your chain; etc. For minor adjustments, get an Allen wrench set and watch some YouTube videos. It may be a little intimidating at first, but knowing how to do the basic stuff goes a long way. Also, you should clean your bike and all of its components pretty often. This may seems obvious but I neglected to do so most of the winter on my new fancy tri bike and ended up with a stuck brake on my first outdoor ride of the season. (Did I mentioned I sweat a lot? Like… kind of a freaky amount). Clean that shit off!

Remember you’re not a pro. This is was tough lesson to learn. There are days I would be super pumped to train but just couldn’t swing it between other responsibilities (work, family, etc.). It’s okay to want to be a badass triathlete that competes to the best of your abilities… and also has a life outside of triathlon.

Race day lessons

Make a pack list and check it twice. Go through each discipline and transition to cross of what you’ll need. Don’t forget the little things like sunscreen and hair ties. *Two* races in a row I forgot my race belt, which wasn’t a huge deal but did cost me an extra minute or two pinning on my bib and added stress I didn’t need.

Be prepared for any weather. As the saying goes, “hope for the best but prepare for the worse”. My race at the end of this summer was 47 degree and pouring rain. I froze my spandex-covered ass off on the bike when I opted to wear just my race kit. Better to pack layers and not need them then not have them at all.

Know that the swim might be a little crazy. Until you’ve experienced it, there’s no real way to prepare for the chaos of the race swim. Particularly with mass starts, the crazy amount bodies in the water, kicking and splashing around you, can definitely be overwhelming. Unless you’re a super strong swimmer, it’s probably not a terrible idea to stick closer to the back or outside of the pack for your first few races.

Swimming straight is better than swimming fast. In my first race of the year I swam a great pace (for me) but swam an extra 500 yards, which tacked an extra 8-10 minutes onto my swim time. Practice sighting and, especially during the chaos of a race, be prepare to sight more frequently if you need to.

Practice transition. My T1 in my first race was laughably horrible. I couldn’t get my wetsuit off; I forgot to untie my shoes ahead of time (I use no-tie laces now); I couldn’t find my sunglasses; I left my bike in too high of a gear to get moving. It was just ugly. Practice ahead of time so you can layout your transition area the way you need before the race starts.

Thumbs up for running….at the start of the run.

Pacing is a real thing: Respect it. Two races in a row (nope, didn’t learn the first time) I took off at my normal 10K race pace, not respecting the fact that I’ve ridden my bike 25-56 miles already. The results? A really miserable second-half of the run. Be smarter than me and hopefully you won’t hate yourself with just a few miles to go.

Have fun. I know, I know! This is the most cliché… but it’s legitimate advice! As many coaches say, the race is just the celebration of the work you’ve put in until that point. Take it all in. Give high fives when offered. Smile. Drink the beer afterwards. You’ve earned this celebration!

Always have the beer after the race.

In addition to complete my first full Ironman, my main goal for 2018 is to have as much fun in every race as I did in my very first one. Be serious but not too serious. Drink beer after every race (okay, fine… I should choose a more ambitious goal.)

…to be continued…

For more experienced triathletes, do you remember your rookie season? What classic mistakes from your first season of racing did I miss?